The Cat Always Gets Out of the Bag
by Mara Greengrass
Summary: You'd think Bruce would know better than to let Ollie start thinking about certain things.


TITLE: The Cat Always Gets Out of the Bag  
PERMISSION TO ARCHIVE: Please ask.  
CATEGORY: Is humorous het a category? Something like that.  
SUMMARY: You'd think Bruce would know better than to let Ollie start thinking about certain things.  
CONTINUITY: Well, after Hush, certainly, because it makes vague reference to events there.  
DISCLAIMER: These characters belong to DC Comics. I just fantasize about them.  
NOTES: This fic was written for Tallyhohoho, who made a wish. (I'm not sure this is precisely what you wanted, but it was the best I could do!) Thanks to Carmen for canon help that gave me the idea and Kerithwyn and Morgan for telling me what I needed to know, even if I didn't want to know it.

* * *

"Oh. My. God. You totally did." Ollie stared at Bruce, where he sat at the Watchtower's central monitors.

Bruce growled. "I don't want to talk about it."

Of course, Ollie ignored him. When had the man ever known when it was time to stop talking? "I can't believe it!"

"What part of 'I don't want to talk about it' was unclear?" A readout caught his eye and he flipped monitor 3 to the main screen. Looked like Flash had the situation under control, though.

"Stop playing with the toys to avoid me, Bats."

Bruce turned slowly and glared. "Do not call me Bats. And you're not even a full member of the JLA, what are you doing here?"

Ollie wasn't fazed. "Needed to talk to a couple of people and this is the best place to corner 'em."

"If all of your conversations were as inconsequential as ours, I'll remove your codes from the transporter."

"Gimme a break. I'm just marveling that you and Catwoman...uh, well you...then again, she's damn good--"

Ollie, normally unafraid of Bruce's moods, trailed off. "She's what?" Bruce managed through gritted teeth, one fist clenching on the edge of the console.

"Uh." He took a step back before recovering his poise. "Nothing."

If his teeth ground any harder, he was going to break his jaw. "What about Selina?" Each word fell like a 6-ton weight into the quiet hum of the room.

"Nothing. Really. I'm sorry I brought it up." Ollie gathered his scattered dignity. "And now I'd better get home, make sure Mia and Conner have eaten something. You know how kids are." He nearly made it to the door.

"Ollie."

"Yes?"

"There's nothing between Selina and I. It was...an aberration."

"Right."

"Now what were you going to say about her?"

Ollie twitched. "She's damn good at what she does."

"Try again."

"Uh. She's damn good in bed." The words were mumbled like a small child making a forced apology.

Bruce looked down at a strange sound and found he'd cracked the plastic edge of the console. "Ah," he said conversationally. "And you would know this..."

"It was just the once," Ollie said. "We were on a case. Stuck in a hotel room."

"I see." An image of Selina laughing at him flashed through his mind. She did that a lot, usually while running a claw across the bat emblem on his chest. He turned back to the monitors.

Bruce expected Ollie to take this chance to leave, but instead he went on. "Look that was a while ago, but she...talked about you. More than she realized, I think."

Bruce didn't see the monitors, but he kept up the pretense, his fingers automatically switching around the views.

"She's a lot more complicated than most people think."

"I'm aware of that."

"And she's, I mean, I know she used to be just a thief, but--"

"She operates in my city, Green Arrow." Unspoken was the 'and don't presume to tell me about anything that happens in my city.'

"Right." Ollie cleared his throat. "Well, I'm sorry I said anything. Your relationship with Catwoman is your own business."

Bruce whirled. "There is no rel..." But Ollie was retreating down the hall, the door closing behind him. "Damn." He hissed in annoyance, slamming a fist on the edge of console, remembering too late that it was already damaged. Several pieces clattered to the floor.

When the door swished open behind him moments later, Bruce had had enough. "One more word about Catwoman and I swear they'll never find your body."

"Catwoman?" Wally asked. "Why would I be talking about Catwoman?"

Bruce wondered how many alarms he would set off if he smashed his head against the center of the console.

"Did I hear you mention Catwoman?" Clark asked, swooping into the room. "Hey, the console's broken. Did she get onto the Watchtower again? I thought she was semi-reformed anyway."

Bruce considered throwing himself out an airlock.

"I don't know what's going on," Wally replied. "Batman mentioned her first, but I don't know why."

Clark chuckled. "You know what they say about Batman and Catwoman."

Bruce considered throwing Clark out an airlock, instead turning to glare. "No, Superman, what do they say?" His voice was so cold, it could have been used to chill drinks. At the North Pole.

Wally and Clark both took involuntary steps backward.

"Go. Away."

They were gone before he'd finished the second word. Good. Maybe now he could get some work done.

Bruce? J'onn said in his mind. Is something wrong? I can feel your agitation from here.

The only response he got was an inarticulate cry of rage.

--end--


End file.
